All Because of a Horse Drawn Carriage
by tinysammiches
Summary: The tale that shall be told has many players. Some are young. Some are old. All are bruised and bent. Some have yet to understand the world. Most have understood it, and wish to leave it for another. Yet they fly and fall. Yet they laugh and cry. Yet they love and hate. Some are too torn to see the love they have grown to despise. Though they do not see who they can be together.


**The tale that shall be told has many players**

 **Some are young**

 **Some are old**

 **All are bruised and bent**

 **Some have yet to understand the world**

 **Most have understood it**

 **And wish to leave it for another**

 **Yet they fly**

 **and fall**

 **Yet they laugh**

 **and cry**

 **Yet they love**

 **and hate**

 **Some are too torn to see**

 **the love they have grown to despise**

 **Some have never known love**

 **other than broken bones**

 **Yet they fly**

 **and fall**

 **Yet they laugh**

 **and cry**

 **Yet they love**

 **and hate**

 **But they all can still learn to be**

 **Peaceful and hopeful**

 **though they do not see**

 **who they can be**

 **together.**

 **...**

 **Alice Kirkland**

Alice Kirkland had always hated dirt. Since she was tiny and smelled of her mothers milk, she would dust herself off whenever a speck of the fowl stuff presented itself to her.

That's what her father had told her anyway. She hardly believed him, even now that he was dead and gone.

Alice had lived a very clean and dirt- free life for her first sixteen years. She didn't bother herself with the maids or the butlers that busied themselves around her every day. She barley acknowledged her own lady's maid, unless she had to. Like, if her petticoat or apron had any sort of stain or imperfection, she would have to tell her maid to clean it again, until it was pristine.

Her maids never lasted long.

Alice's room was large and most of the space was unused, making it look even larger, which suited Alice just fine. Small spaces looked cramped and were in constant need of a cleaning. Her chairs were eggshell white, her plush blankets on her four poster bed were cream, and of course everything was scrubbed daily.

Her clothes were never dull, in color or fashion. Browns and blacks and anything dark was out of the question. Everything was ironed and pressed, and nothing was out of place.

Alice never wanted for anything, for everything was right at her delicate fingertips. Even if it weren't, all she would have to do was snap those fine fingers and her father would make any of her wishes come true.

He had always felt guilty for leaving her with no siblings, so of course she got what she wanted, after all; he didn't want her to be lonely.

She even looked perfect. Her hair was lustrous and long, brushing her hips. Her eyes were the brightest emerald green she had ever seen. Her skin was as white as her blankets.

How funny, that perfection can change so easily.

It had started when her mother had left. Alice was thirteen at the time, and everyone in her household had thought that something was wrong with her, for she did not seem to care that her mother had gone and left her and her father alone. What they did not know was that Alice had never been close with her mother. Her mother never seemed to have time for her. That being said, she felt a twinge of pity for her father who seemed to take the sudden disappearance of his beloved wife much harder than anyone else did. Alice didn't quite understand why. Her mother never seemed to have time for him either, but she didn't want to see her father sad, so she tried her best to make him happy.

But something had changed in the man. He didn't smile anymore. When Alice had snapped her fingers, no more of her wishes came true. Things got worse and worse from then on.

They left their house. Alice no longer had a large room. Alice didn't even have her own bed. She had to share half of a small bed with her father. The kitchen was directly to the left. Alice made sure everything was clean, but it still felt too cramped, and too dirty.

I wasn't too horrible until Alice began to get older. She longed for her own space once again, but she tried not to complain too much.

It wasn't until Alice was seventeen when her entire world came to an abrupt and crushing end.

Her father couldn't live with this decrepit world anymore, it would seem. She had found what had remained of him when she arrived home with a pitifully small amount of food for the night.

Alice wished she could say that she was saddened by his death, and that she cried like a babe. But she was never a lier. What she felt at the time, as her bag had fallen to the ground, was how disgusting the room had become. The walls and the bed were covered in her fathers sadness and desperation. She didn't know how to get those kinds of stains out of the scratchy linens, and the walls were probably hopeless. She vaguely remembered going to the proper authorities, but she never returned to the room they called a house.

She spent most of her time walking. When she got tired of walking, she sat and slept wherever it was the cleanest.

Her skin was no longer porcelain. It had been kissed and cooked by the sun. She didn't turn brown and pretty like some of the other people she passed. She turned red and patchy. Her hands were no longer delicate, but calloused and painful. Her hair was knotted and she could no longer thread her fingers through it, but she kept it long out of defiance. She wanted to keep some part of her old life, even if he clothes were brown, and her arms and legs covered in black dirt.

Many would think that Alice's life had taken that crushing blow when her father had died. But no, her life ended when her body was no longer clean. The day she had walked to the wrong place, and threw her into the wrong man. He had held her by her hair, and had his way with her filthy, vile body. He had told her she was ruined, that she had deserved it.

She knew she had.

How else would she repay her sins. Her sin of apathy and passiveness. Her pride. She had been granted a good life, she realized as she lie in the dirt with her body stinging. It was taken away when she forgot about her mother, and didn't care that she was gone. Then, as she had failed to learn her lesson with her father, as she had still felt nothing for the man she once adored, the last part of her innocence had been taken. For the first time in her life, she felt tears on her cheeks, and her throat had turned raw from her screaming.

Even then she knew she was wrong. She knew she was crying for herself. Not for her mother, her father. How grotesque was she, that she still cared nothing for those who had given her life, even if neither one had been who she had first come to know. She had cried for herself for what felt like hours that morning until she heard the voice of her redeemer come close again.

She had found the ability to limp away. He had beaten her black and blue, her knee as swollen as her tired eyes. She didn't know how long she had trudged, her legs giving out more than once, only for her to keep moving. She had to get away.

The sun had risen by the time she had come to a stop. She had made it to a park she had never seen before. Pretty white benches circled around the perimeter of a cleanly cut lawn, the grass bright green. Tree's taller than a clock tower sprouted here and there, all of them swaying with the soft breeze. Alice could smell flowers, but couldn't see where they were, though the aroma reminded her of her mothers perfume.

She stepped forward, only to collapse once again in the grass. It felt so soft. She laid down on it, letting the sun scorch her peeling face. As she closed her eyes, she swore she heard voices, but they were soft and distant, and people don't usually disturb themselves with a street rat anyway. So, she slept.

...

Upon waking, she didn't know where she was. She did know that she was not where she had fallen asleep. She lifted the soft but worn blanket, and saw that her knee was wrapped in a tight bandage and her clothes had been changed into something green and simple.

She lifted her heavy head and glanced around. It was small, but that could have been because of the amount of things crammed into such a tight space. The walls were a charming and clean blue. Four beds lay to the right of her, and one to the left, and even more were in front of her. There was a massive window the the front of this mysterious building, which let in a natural light. Right next to it, a small brown door. Another, smaller window was behind her, with another white door next to it. This one was open slightly, and she heard the same voices from earlier through the crack.

Someone laughed loudly and Alice flinched. It was a mans laugh. She cautiously stepped out of the comfortable bed and, only wincing slightly as the pain, made her way to the door behind her. She had no shoes or stockings on, but since she had no idea where they might have been, she didn't pay that much mind. She put her hand on the handle and pulled. The door opened wider with a creak, and she was momentarily blinded by the sun.

Someone gasped and another clapped in amusement. When her eyes adjusted to the sun she looked around at her audience. Two girls, perhaps a few years younger than her, sat next to each other. One had a nasty scowl on her otherwise gorgeous face, and the other wore a warm and welcoming smile on hers, though both of the faces were the same, looks wise.

On a bench to the left of them was an older man. He had smile lines criss- crossing over his face, and brown curly hair. His smile was even brighter than that of the other girls. Another girl, the same age as the twins, was sitting next to the man, her face buried in a book, her light blonde hair blowing in the breeze. She didn't seem to take notice of Alice, which was fine by her. She opened her mouth to ask where she was, but her throat closed up, and her words wouldn't come forth. It would seem she had lost her voice. The older man stood up slowly and held out his large, tanned hand.

"Hello young lady," Alice took his hand in a polite handshake. "My name is Roma." He gestured to the girls behind him. "These are my granddaughters, Lovina and Feliciana."

The one called Lovina grunted, and Feliciana chirped her own greeting, telling Alice to call her Feli. Alice's gaze must have wondered to the other girls back because Roma introduced her next as Madeleine. Feli told Alice to call her Maddie instead. Maddie never looked up from her book, though Alice could see that her ears had turned red. Alice looked to the building behind her and raised her eyebrow at Roma. He chuckled, and Alice felt a warmth in her stomach. She had forgotten what warmth had felt like, because it made her eyes water, and her heart yearn for more.

"This is my home, and my business." He turned to smile at his grandchildren. "This is La Roma, an orphanage for lost children." He spread his arms wide and turned in a circle. His voice was loud, but deep, and it sounded like music to Alice's ears. Roma turned back to her, and held her gaze with his deep brown eyes. "You can stay for as long as you wish, sweet child."

He pat her on the head and headed for the door, Feli trailing behind him, asking what they were having for dinner, and Lovina trailing behind her, her scowl still in place.

Alice looked to the trees that covered them from the view of the road. She closed her eyes as she felt a warm breeze pass through the yard, and she was almost not surprised to find that her hair had been combed, and she had not even noticed. It flowed in the breeze in a way that it had not done for years. The warmth in her belly swirled into her ribs and around her shoulders. She wanted to stay, but she didn't deserve this kindness. She would leave after Maddie went inside she decided.

She opened her eyes, and would have screamed if her throat was capable of making a noise. Standing right in front of her was a boy that was eye level with her. His eyes were shockingly blue, and his smile could light up a graveyard. She took two steps back and put a shaking hand up to push the boy away, but he didn't move. He only stood there, smiling. When he spoke, Alice felt the warmth shoot into her chest and face.

"Wow," he breathed. "You sure are pretty."

Alice could only blink and shake her head. She wasn't pretty. Not anymore. She was filthy, and ugly. The boy laughed and nodded with the same fervor as he shook her head. A new voice called from behind the boy. It was Maddie, her voice softer than velvet. "Come on Alfred. Let's go help with dinner."

She passed the boy, grabbing his hand and pulling him along, a small smile sent Alice's way. Alfred resisted the pulling, and instead held out his free hand to Alice. She stared at it, and her heart thundered. She didn't want to soil his hands with her skin. Alfred slowly put the hand down, but called out to Alice. "C'mon, if you are gonna be part of this family, you gotta help too."

Alice's head snapped up. Family? She hadn't had a family in years, and she suddenly never wanted anything more desperately. Her eyes pricked with tears and she let out a sob. She didn't deserve one, and she most certainly didn't think she could stay, but how she ached to. She shook her head and sobbed harder. Alfred sighed and Maddie looked away. Alice tried to dry her tears, but they wouldn't stop coming. A bell sounded from inside.

Alfred only smiled softly and walked past her, tugging the back of her dress. In her head, she couldn't make a decision, but her heart seemed to know what it wanted, because as Alfred tugged she could only follow.

...

 **Hi. So, I am not sure how many people will recognize this story from the previously written one. I decided to get a completely new account, and to completely rewrite all of my works. With All Because of a Horse Drawn Carriage, I have decided to introduce a few of the characters in their own little one shots before I get on to the main story, so that we can get into who they were and where they come from. Some (most) are going to be a lot shorter than this one, but I thought this was better than trying to work every one's story into the main story, y'know?**

 **As always, thank you for reading!**


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